


The Secret Tattoo

by thekeyholder



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin has a secret tattoo and Ori once sees it for a moment. The scribe is a bit upset that the warrior hid it from him, but he doesn't ask questions. One day, after they took back Erebor, Dwalin visits his little friend to make a confession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Secret Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SangoChan2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SangoChan2/gifts).



> This is my first Dwalin/Ori fic. *excited* I would like to kindly thank [SangoChan2](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SangoChan2/pseuds/SangoChan2) for betaing this story - her suggestions made it better and her fangirl comments made me smile. Therefore, I'm gifting this to you, dear. :)

One would think that a person who has many drawings on their skin doesn’t mind getting a new tattoo, that this process has become something normal for them. However, Dwalin got all his tattoos for a very serious reason and not because of some kind of silly whim: each of them marked an important historical event, such as a battle in which he had fought and protected his king. His body was practically a book which preserved the important dates in the history of dwarves.

 

As he sat on the bed in his room, Dwalin realised that perhaps that was the reason why Ori took an interest in him. One evening on their way to Erebor when Dwalin was on watch, Ori sat down beside him and with a shy smile and a quiet voice asked the warrior about the stories behind his tattoos. Dwalin was pleasantly surprised and started by taking off his knuckle-dusters to show the designs on his hands. He told the scribe about the harsh battles he had faced and Ori surprised him again by knowing very precise details about them and completing Dwalin’s memoir.

 

Dwalin watched, fascinated, as Ori opened up to him in the velvety firelight: his dark eyes widened and his cheeks turned red as words rushed out of his mouth. He smiled encouragingly and after a couple of minutes he found himself staring at the scribe’s lips. He quickly looked back into Ori’s dark eyes, just in time as the young dwarf asked him to tell the story about the tattoos on his head.

 

Dwalin’s scalp bore the most recent ones. Ori had lived all of the events they commemorated, but he had been too young to participate in any of the battles. There was a tattoo just above Dwalin’s left ear and Ori tentatively touched it as it looked a bit different, but quickly took his index finger back, afraid that his touch would be considered inappropriate. Dwalin didn’t mind it, but he didn’t know how to tell that to his young companion.

 

“Does this mark what I think it does?” Ori asked as he frowned.

 

“Our quest, yes.”

 

The warrior already knew what would be Ori’s next question.

 

“But why did you get a tattoo before concluding this quest? You had the others made after the battles, right?”

 

Dwalin sighed and looked into the golden flames, unsure if he should reveal the reason. “Look, laddie, I don’t have great hopes. Our number is small. You’ve seen how many perils we’ve faced so far; Mahal knows how many others are lurking on our path. Don’t forget that there’s a dragon at the end of the road. Who knows, I might become just a handful of ash at the end of this mission.”

 

Ori wilted visibly as he listened to Dwalin; colour left his soft cheeks. However, after a minute his look hardened and he stated with determination: “No, I refuse to believe that and you too, Mister Dwalin, had better changed your mind. You will survive this quest, all of us will, and we will rebuild Erebor to its former glory.”

 

How could Dwalin object to such fierceness? He didn’t find the power in himself. Moreover, he felt embarrassed that he didn’t believe in his friends. He looked back at the flames, their slow dancing calming his whirling thoughts. He concentrated so hard that Ori’s next question caught him off-guard:

 

“Mister Dwalin, do you have any other tattoos?”

 

The warrior straightened his back suddenly and looked down at his boots. “No, I don’t.”

 

Ori’s eyes shone as mysteriously as black onyx; he seemed to have sensed that Dwalin was not entirely honest, yet he didn’t push for the truth. He knew that if Dwalin wanted to share, he would do so later. They sat silently in front of the fire until Ori’s eyes felt heavy and the warrior sent him to sleep, assuring his new friend that he didn’t mind bearing the last hour of his watch alone.

 

Dwalin felt so guilty that he had to lie to Ori, but he wasn’t prepared to reveal his secret tattoo yet. It was deeply personal; not even Balin knew of its existence. Nobody was supposed to see it, but a spear hurt his left shoulder once and the wound had to be treated urgently. Thorin was the only one allowed to help him and Dwalin saw the surprise in the king’s blue eyes and then understanding, for the tattoo’s message was something that he could easily identify with. It went without saying that they would never speak of it.

 

Nevertheless, Dwalin still felt bad about hiding the truth from Ori, even more so a year later, but he hoped that he could soon reveal everything to him. He fiddled with the piece of parchment he had in his hands and reread the things he had quickly put down on it. Maybe if he memorised them, he wouldn’t stutter…As he was reading his quickly scribbled words, Dwalin remembered the second time he disappointed Ori.

 

It was just after the eagles saved them from Azog and his orc group. Kili and Fili found a river with clear water and they decided that everyone needed a bath, considering that they were covered in smelly substances like goblin and orc blood. Dwalin was careful and stood with his back to the other dwarves while he washed himself. He finished quickly and headed to the secluded spot where he had left his clothes. However, it seemed that he wasn’t the only one who desired privacy: Ori was quickly dressing there as well and startled, he looked back at the warrior. Dwalin was certain that he noticed the tattoo on his chest, just where his heart was, even though Ori couldn’t have made out the tiny letters from where he stood.

 

Again, Ori didn’t say anything, but Dwalin noticed him shooting questioning glances in the warrior’s direction. That evening, when they finally stopped for the night, Ori stepped to Dwalin with Grasper, the axe he had lent to the young scribe when they fought against the goblins. Ori didn’t say anything; he just extended his right arm and opened his hand for Dwalin to take back his weapon. The warrior felt so bewildered, so hurt, he could barely mutter: “Keep it, lad.”

 

When he noticed that the scribe was still standing in front of him, Dwalin closed Ori’s fingers around the axe’s handle and squeezed the tiny hand warmly. “Please, keep it. I want you to be safe.”

 

The tenseness between them had faded away since then and they became really good friends. Little Ori was right: they all survived the battle and were now working hard to rebuild their home. Moreover, Thorin came round in time: he apologised to Bilbo and finally started courting him. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief; they could barely stand the tension between the king and the hobbit. Dwalin walked out of his room and down the corridors, deep in thought. If Thorin managed to placate Bilbo, then he could explain his past actions to Ori.

 

He arrived to Ori’s door, but didn’t knock right away. Being nervous was not something he normally was. He didn’t want to mess up this conversation and he really hoped that Ori felt the same. Just as he was trying to calm down his nerves, the princes and Bilbo came down the corridor and stopped beside him with suspiciously wide grins.

 

“Hello, Dwalin,” Fili and Kili greeted him at the same time. “Fancy seeing you here.”

 

Fantastic, just what he needed! Dwalin didn’t know if he blushed because they caught him in front of Ori’s door or because in a few hours the whole Erebor would know about his visit. Bilbo patted Dwalin’s forearm and said reassuringly:

 

“Do not worry, Dwalin. There is no reason why you should feel anxious. You’ll see that Ori will appreciate your visit.” Then he leaned in and whispered so that only Dwalin could hear him: “As about the princes, I’ll make sure they keep their big mouths shut.”

 

Dwalin muttered his thanks and thought that he’d wait another five minutes before trying his luck, but Fili and Kili had different plans: they knocked loudly on Ori’s door and ran away, dragging a surprised Bilbo with them. Dwalin was looking with wide eyes from the door to the boys as Ori opened. His face brightened when he saw his visitor and as he followed Dwalin’s gaze, he saw the princes and Bilbo disappear at the end of the corridor.

 

“The boys knocked…” Dwalin muttered.

 

“Oh, it was them…” Ori said and swallowed, avoiding Dwalin’s eyes. “I thought you wanted to visit me.”

 

“I did. I want to tell you something important,” the warrior hurried to assure Ori and he entered the room, looking around warily. “You’re alone then?”

 

“Yes, I am.”

 

“Good. Good.”

 

Ori watched curiously as Dwalin paced in his tiny room. He couldn’t imagine why his friend was so anxious. Ori was about to ask him if he wanted a cup of tea when Dwalin finally turned to him and placed his large hands on Ori’s shoulder.

 

“Ori, do you remember when you asked me if I had any other tattoos?”

 

The scribe frowned, but nodded.

 

“Do you also remember that day when we bathed? I know you saw my tattoo, lad.”

 

“Mister Dwalin, you don’t have to…” Ori tried to protest.

 

“But I want to tell you. Nay, I want to show it to you so that you would understand why I didn’t want to talk about it earlier.”

 

By the time Ori realised what Dwalin was planning to do, the warrior had already taken off his fur and his coat. The young dwarf looked away, embarrassed, as Dwalin took off his shirt too. Ori covered his blushing cheeks with his cold hands when the warrior stood in front of him half-naked.

 

“Ori…I had this tattoo made a very long time ago, even before Smaug came. I didn’t want to show it to you, because it is not complete yet. But now I know – and I think I’ve already known when you asked me on that night – how I should finish it. This will be my final tattoo. This will be the best. Of course, if you will allow it.”

 

Ori turned his head shyly and he looked in Dwalin’s blue eyes for a moment before focusing his attention on the mysterious tattoo. It was in Khuzdul and Ori vaguely recalled hearing this in an old song, but he wasn’t sure. He cleared his throat before reading it out loud:

 

“ _Sul furkhûh kurdûh zirikhifi bakh ma ublûri kherem_ _…_ ”

 

His voice faded into a whisper as he reached the last word.

 

“All my life my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name,” Dwalin translated it, but he knew that Ori understood it. “As I told you, I now know how to complete this design, because I know for whom I have longed.”

 

Suddenly, Ori felt very faint. This had to be a dream, Mister Dwalin surely didn’t mean…

 

“Ori, it is your name that I would like to wear above my heart,” Dwalin confessed and took Ori’s hand in his. “Will you give me this honour?”

 

Ori just nodded happily before flinging  his arms around Dwalin’s neck and laughing so sweetly that Dwalin had to wipe away a few tears of joy before he spun his little dwarf in the air. Oh, how happy they both felt! They didn’t want to let go of each other, they embraced tightly and spent the afternoon like that, watching as the purple sky gave way to ever darker blue.

 

Later, when they were bound together for eternity, Ori would often admire his name written in Khuzdul on Dwalin’s chest and he would place his ear there to listen to Dwalin’s heart. He never got tired of that beautiful song.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope the Khuzdul is right, otherwise I failed as a language student! xD Here, I wrote it down (plus how it should be pronounced) and scanned it: [CLICK!](http://i209.photobucket.com/albums/bb210/brigysoad/Hobbit%20-%20fanfic/khuzdultattoo0001.jpg) I wish I would have come up with some kind of design, but I'm not that creative. Oh and that is a quote by André Breton.
> 
> Edit! P.S: I now have a tumblr, so guys, if you want to flail about Dwori, Bagginshield or The Hobbit in general, you can find me at butterfliesandresistance.tumblr.com


End file.
